His Command
by TeresaJane
Summary: Lisbon has to face painful memories, and Jane is there to help.
1. Chapter 1

"Jane, would _please_ leave me the hell alone?" Lisbon said for what seemed like the millionth time. She was whining now, which should have been a warning. _Oh, but this is _Jane_ we're talking about_, Lisbon thought sarcastically.

"Don't you like my company?" Jane pouted. "Fine. I can see I'm not wanted here." He got up from her couch and walked to the door.

"Finally!" Lisbon almost felt like dancing. She was free!

Jane stopped suddenly and turned, a huge grin on his face. "On second thought," he said, walking back to the couch, "I'd like to see you dance."

"Dammit, Jane!" Lisbon seethed; her face betrayed her and she could feel herself blushing. "Get the hell out of my office, right now!"

Jane pretended to consider this, then shook his head. "Nah, I think I'll stay." With a sigh, he stretched out and lay back on the couch.

Lisbon tried to ignore him at first, which was surprisingly easy. Until he said, "Y'know, Lisbon, I think I'll stay here for the rest of the day. It's quite—Lisbon? Lisbon, don't—OUCH!!" He fled the office, holding his nose.

"And stay out!" Lisbon yelled after him, slamming the door. Now she _really_ felt like dancing. She could see Jane in the bullpen, sitting forlornly on his couch, while the rest of her team was trying to hold back their laughter. Jane looked up, and her satisfied smirk became a frown. He was bleeding, though not badly, and there what looked like tears of pain in his eyes.

She looked away, suddenly embarrassed. She hadn't meant to punch him; it had just… happened. Sighing, she reluctantly decided to go to him and help him. She opened the door and walked to the bullpen, to Jane's couch. He slightly cringed away from her, adding even more guilt to her conscience.

"Jane…," she began. Heads swiveled in her direction. Was she about to _apologize_? To _Jane_? "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hit you."

"You call that hitting?" Jane mumbled.

"Let me help you."

Audible gasps were heard; she had apologized to Jane, and now she was offering to _help_ him?

"Oh, for God's sake," she muttered, glaring at them. They quickly returned to their work. She looked at Jane again, and this time held out her hand. "Let me help you," she repeated.

After staring at it like it was going to bite him, he finally took her hand and stood up, smiling gratefully. Lisbon smiled back, but only because he looked utterly ridiculous. She led him to her office.

"Aren't I supposed to 'stay out' of here?" he asked.

"My patience is _way_ thinner than thin right now, Jane," she warned. "I suggest you just shut up until this is over." She held up her fist pointedly.

Fear flashed through Jane's eyes before he nodded. Lisbon bit back a smirk and opened her desk drawer to get her First Aid kit. She got what she needed out of it and sat beside Jane on the couch, much closer than was comfortable, but it was unfortunately necessary. She took a paper towel and pressed it to his nose.

"Hold that there," she told him. He winced at the pressure, but kept it in place. "I'm gonna wait until it stops bleeding, then I'll start cleaning it up and bandaging it."

"Keep bleeding," Jane muttered, wincing again as he said it.

"What, are you scared?"

"Of course not," he said. "You know I don't like doctors."

"I'm not a doctor," Lisbon reminded him.

"Right now, you're close enough. And I really don't like it."

"Stop whining, Jane. Didn't I tell you to be quiet?"

"You didn't mind five seconds ago." He smirked.

Lisbon scowled. "Did it stop bleeding yet?"

He removed the soaked paper towel. "Damn. Yes."

"Good." She took the paper towel from him and stood up. "I'll be right back."

"Where are you going?"

"To get a wet paper towel that's not drenched with blood so I can clean you up," she said, walking out of her office.

"Warm water, please," Jane called after her.

"Your wish is my command," Lisbon replied sarcastically. She walked to the kitchen and threw away the paper towel, then washed her hands. It wasn't a pleasant experience, touching something stained with Jane's blood. For some reason, it made her feel a bit queasy. She shook it off and grabbed another paper towel, holding it under warm water just as he had asked.

"So what did he do this time?" a voice asked.

"Disobeyed me," Lisbon answered. "Again."

Van Pelt smiled. "He wouldn't leave you alone," she said knowingly.

"Exactly. I don't know why he finds it necessary to annoy me when I have so much work to do, most of it being his fault. He pulls those stunts of his, and I have to fill out the damned paperwork." Lisbon wrung out the paper towel so that it was damp and turned to walk back to her office.

Van Pelt put a hand on her shoulder. "He doesn't do it to annoy you," she said softly.

Lisbon faced her, and Van Pelt dropped her hand immediately. "He still annoys me," Lisbon said, though she didn't sound very certain. "I wish…" She stopped herself right there. She was _not_ the heart-on-her-sleeve girl that Van Pelt could be.

"You wish he wouldn't irritate you so much," Van Pelt said, "because you really want to be able to talk to him and tell him things without you regretting it later because he asks about it."

"You've been hanging around Jane too much," Lisbon said, only realizing after she had said it that she had just confirmed Van Pelt's thoughts. Van Pelt's eyes widened, and her jaw dropped. Now Lisbon felt like a deer in the headlights: trapped. "I… uh… um, I gotta get back to Jane," she stammered.

"Okay, boss." Van Pelt turned and hurried back to the bullpen, no doubt to tell Rigsby and Cho what she had learned. Lisbon sighed. This was _so_ not her day.

She trudged back to her office, where Jane was now sprawled across her couch, whistling something. When she walked in, he sat up and was silent. _Now we decide to use our brain_, Lisbon thought.

She sat down beside him again and gently pressed the now-cold paper towel to his nose. He winced, but didn't move away or complain about the temperature of the paper towel.

"Did your brain turn on while I was gone?" she asked. "You seem a lot smarter now."

"Word is you wish I wasn't so irritating," Jane answered, "and that if I wasn't, you would confide in me more often and actually feel good about it. I really wish you would talk to me more, so I'm changing my ways. Your wish," he added, "is my command."

Lisbon stared at him, completely dumbstruck. Had Van Pelt somehow told him? And as for him "changing his ways;" that was utter bull. Never gonna happen, as much as she wished it would.

"That's big of you," she said, wiping the last bit of blood from Jane's face. "How long will this transformation last?"

"Until you start to miss the old me." He sounded as serious as a heart attack. Egotistical much?

"And what makes you think I would?" Lisbon started unwrapping bandages as she spoke. "You're vain, you're a jerk, you don't know when to _leave people alone_, and you lie constantly. Oh, yeah, I'm _so_ gonna miss the old you."

Jane looked crushed and confused. "You... really think I'm like that?"

"Jane, I'm sorry, but I don't think you'll be able to change who you are. I'm not asking you to." Lisbon put a hand on his shoulder. "Please don't worry about what I want."

Amusement flashed in Jane's eyes. "Reverse psychology?"

"Damn," Lisbon muttered. She quickly pulled her hand back. "I wish you wouldn't do that." She tried bandaging his nose, but he moved away.

"That's okay," he sai, standing up. "It feels much better already." He started to walk away. "Oh, and Lisbon?"

"Hmm?"

He walked back to her, took her hand, and kissed it. "Your wish is my command," he murmured. Then he was gone.

Lisbon felt as though she had been in a dream and just woken up. Jane. Had. Kissed. Her. Was the whole damned world conspiring against her? She was so confused...

"Boss?"

"Yeah, Cho?"

"We've got a case. Straight from the AG."

"Got it." This was just what she needed: something to get her mind back on track. She grabbed the First-Aid kit and put it back where it belonged and took her gun from its drawer. Cho looked at her strangely. Lisbon sighed. "It's out of town?" she guessed.

"Way out of town."

"Dammit. Where?"

"Hollister."

Lisbon immediately tensed up. _Hollister... the last time she had been there was fifteen years ago..._

_...and she never wanted to go back._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for your reviews! They made me really happy! Sometimes I think that you guys are my real friends, even though we've never met... Anyway, you can thank Pepsi and gummy worms for this one. Oh, and we find out what happened 15 years ago. :D

Disclaimer:

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Lisbon slammed the trunk of the SUV shut and sighed. She had finally worked up the courage to go back to Hollister, and wanted to get there before she decided she couldn't do it.

"Ready?"

Lisbon sighed again. To add to her bad day, Jane had been following her around like a hungry puppy. He knew something was wrong—he always did, unfortunately—but didn't ask her what exactly it was.

"Yes," Lisbon said. What made today even worse was that she had to ride with Jane. 117 miles in a car with him; this was _not_ going to be good. The only reason she had to ride with Jane is because he had hidden her keys, giving Rigsby, Van Pelt, and Cho the chance to run to the other car and drive off. They knew she didn't want to go to Hollister, and she really didn't blame them for not wanting to be near her. And they knew the only person who was willing to put up with her was Jane.

"Lisbon?" Jane's voice was soft and concerned. "Are you sure you want to go?"

Lisbon almost said, "No." But she caught herself. "Yes, Jane," she snapped instead. "Just get in the car."

"Your wish is my command." He walked to the passenger's door, opened it, and got in. He _had_ been listening to her more often, but this was a day and a half. It could just stop when he got tired of saying, "Your wish is my command." How cheesy was that? That actually made her smile a little, but did nothing to brighten her mood.

It wasn't that she was mad about going to Hollister. She wasn't mad at all.

No. She was terrified.

About an hour into the trip, Lisbon was clutching the steering wheel so tightly, she had lost all the feeling in her hands. Her muscles ached from being tensed for so long, but she just couldn't relax. _She was going back._ Her job—the one she had gotten to escape Hollister—was taking her there. Would Daren still be there, keeping his promise to miss her forever? She didn't think she could live with that.

"Lisbon!" Jane yelped. "Watch the road!"

She had drifted off the highway into the dirt, and was coming up on a mailbox fast. Instead of swerving to miss it, she stopped entirely and got out of the car. She walked to the other side.

"Get out," she growled. "You're driving."

Instead of making the usual witty comment, Jane just did as he was told. Silently; no "Your wish is my command." He took the keys from her, walked around the car, and got in the driver's seat. Lisbon got it and slammed the door so hard, Jane was surprised it didn't fall off.

"I know what your answer will be," he said quietly, "but do you want to talk about it?"

"No." Lisbon didn't look at him, choosing instead to stare out the window, at the nothingness beyond it.

Jane had known that's what she would say, but had wanted to let her know that he wouldn't ask again. He had been on his best behavior since she had punched him, but if she didn't want to talk to him—

"Actually…"

Jane nearly jumped through the roof of the car. He waited, shocked, for her to go on.

"When I was 22, my best friend, Christie, invited me to go on vacation with her." She still wouldn't meet his eyes, but Jane wasn't about to complain. "I wanted to go, but I was still looking after my dad, and Tommy and Michael were still in school, and John was in college." Her next words were bitter. "Where I should have been. I told Christie I couldn't go, but wished I could.

"Later, when I thought about it, I realized that this was probably the only opportunity I would have to go somewhere… different." Lisbon laughed harshly. "Guess I was wrong. I called my Aunt Molly and asked if she could take over for awhile. She said of course she could, but I knew she didn't want to. I felt bad, but I wanted to go _so badly_. And I still had to ask my dad. Unfortunately, he was drunk at the time." She paused, and when she continued, it was in a whisper. "He never even knew I was gone."

Jane's eyes widened. "You mean, you didn't tell him?" he blurted before he could stop himself.

"I just called Christie and told her that he had said I could go. Aunt Molly came the next day, but I was already at Christie's." Lisbon stopped and took a shaky breath, but didn't continue. Jane noticed that every time she said her friend's name, her voice trembled.

"Lisbon," Jane said, "you don't have to tell me—"

"I want to." She looked at him, and he realized why she hadn't been before. She was crying. "We left the day after Molly arrived. I was so excited." Lisbon smiled at the memory. "Christie's family had money, something I wasn't used to. We stayed at the Hilton there. The first day, it was raining, so we stayed inside and watched movies." She frowned, and new tears began to fall. "The second day, Christie and I went to the mall attached to the hotel. That's where I met Daren."

Jane was about to ask about Daren, but Lisbon suddenly started sobbing. He froze. Male instinct was telling him to run as far away as possible from the weeping woman beside him. But it was something else that made him get out of the car, walk to the other side, and open the door. Putting his arms around her shaking body, he held her close to him and murmured two words: "I'm here."

They had no effect on Lisbon. She just kept crying, leaning into Jane and burying her face in his chest. This was why she hadn't talked to anyone about Hollister since she left. It was too painful.

Eventually, the bawling turned to sniffling, and Lisbon pulled away from Jane. Her eyes were puffy and red, and she had a bitch of a headache, but, surprisingly, she felt better about returning to Hollister. She noticed what a mess she had made of Jane's shirt, and blushed.

"I'm really sorry," she said, her voice hoarse. "I just… I…"

"There's nothing to be sorry for." Jane smiled warmly at her. "Better?"

"An aspirin would help even more." She became aware of Jane's arms around her, and the whisper of space between their chests. Jane noticed, too, but made no effort to move away. The way he was looking at her jumbled Lisbon's thoughts, but one was loud and clear: _I wish he would kiss me._

She was immediately rewarded with his lips on hers, soft, warm, and comforting. There was no hunger or passion; it was gentle and sweet.

And very brief. Jane broke the kiss quickly and smiled at her. As soon as he opened his mouth to speak, she knew what he was going to say.

"Your wish is my command," he murmured, and at that moment, there was nothing cheesy about it.

"That was better than aspirin." _Until I finally realize what the hell just happened._


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N: Here we go again. I'm aiming for only five chapters, as I am running out of time for the challenge. If I had the internet at home, **_**mother**_**, the whole fic would probably be published already and I wouldn't have to worry about deadlines. Anyhow, in this installment, we find out more about Daren and Christie. Jello at the end, because I love ya!**

**Disclaimer: List of things I don't own: the rights to The Mentalist, the internet, a car, Simon Baker, a llama, Hollister (the store or the city)… need I go on?**

**Warnings: OOC and language.**

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Lisbon sat on her bed, crying yet again and for almost the same reason. But this was different. Her mind flashed back to the crime scene once more, making the tears fall faster.

_Local police cruisers are everywhere, lights flashing and radios buzzing. They don't need to be here, but Lisbon isn't in the mood to argue with the sheriff at the moment. _

_As they walk to the body, a man introduces himself as Officer Ryan Scott. He's the one who discovered the body, having come upon it while driving through town. It was a John Doe, however: no identification on him, no criminal record. And no witnesses._

"_Right around here," Officer Scott says, leading them around a corner. They can now see the victim. "We did have to move the body—"_

_Lisbon interrupts him with a choked cry. She rushes to the man dead on the ground, bleeding from a single gunshot to the head, and kneels beside him. Taking his upper body in her arms, she whispers, "Daren, oh, Daren, I'm so sorry," and begins to sob. Two officers immediately try to pull her away, but she snarls at them, a wild look in her eyes, and they back off._

_Jane walks up and kneels beside her, putting his hand gently on her shoulder. He says nothing, but his presence is enough._

_Lisbon howls as if she were dying in some horribly painful way. She blames herself for Daren's death; she never should have left. But she had been a coward then._

_She finally calms down enough to tell Officer Scott that the victim is Daren Hawthorne, age 35. Then she leaves without another word. Not even Jane follows her._

So here she was: alone, half-blind from all the tears she had cried, and feeling like the world was going to end. Hollister had taken Christie and now Daren. Was she next? Lisbon wished she could have prevented both their deaths, but she hadn't been there when either had happened. She just kept letting all the people she loved down.

_Is Jane included in that group? _a little voice in her head whispered. Lisbon had no answer. She hadn't thought about it because she already had so much to worry about. Did she love Jane? Did he love her? He had covered the kiss with his, "Your wish is my command," but that was just it. She had wanted him to kiss her. Why?

A sharp knock at the door startled her. A piece of paper slid into the room through the space between the door and the carpet. Cautiously, Lisbon rose from the bed and picked the paper up. It was a note.

_Teresa,_

_I'm alive. Find me._

_Christie _

This wasn't a joke. Lisbon could feel it. _Christie's alive. She's alive…_ She flung open the door, but no one was there. Not even a footprint. Damn. How was she supposed to find her if there weren't any directions? Van Pelt could do a search, but there could be fifty Christina Smiths in Hollister. Maybe… maybe Jane could do his Jane thing. Like get a… something… whatever. It was worth a shot.

But first, she _really_ needed a shower. She began walking to the bathroom, getting ready to pull off her shirt, but stopped when she heard something. It sounded like a scream.

All personal problems forgotten (for the moment), Lisbon was immediately in agent-mode. Walking quickly to the door, she put her ear against it, trying to hear something else. Another scream, some scuffling, and… _Jane_?

Lisbon threw open the door to see Jane being smacked repeatedly by a tiny woman, who apparently was staying in the room directly across the hall.

"Ma'am, I'm sorry—ow!—I thought—ow!—woman, calm yourself—ow!"

"Jane, get over here!" Lisbon hissed.

He turned and scurried inside, cowering behind her. She closed the door and faced him.

"Women can be…" He trailed off when he saw her face. "Oh, Lisbon," he said softly.

She ignored him, putting her hands on her hips and raising an eyebrow. "Why was that woman out there screaming?" she asked.

"I thought it was your room," he answered simply.

"You picked the lock."

"Well, I knew you wouldn't let me in if I didn't—"

"What if I had been changing?" Lisbon demanded. She had been about to undress for her shower! Blushing slightly, she continued. "You can't do things like that, Jane."

But Jane wasn't listening. He was looking at her strangely, and his eyes didn't seem to be on her face…

"Jane?" It was almost the same look he had given her in the car before he had kissed her. But it was almost…hungry. "Jane, you look like an idiot. Knock it off."

His eyes moved back to meet hers. "Go take your shower. You need it."

Lisbon didn't ask questions; she wasn't sure she wanted answers. She hurried to the bathroom, and, just before she closed the door, said, "Pick the lock on _this_ door, and you'll wish that I'd left you out there with that woman."

"Yes, ma'am."

She knew he'd want to talk when she came back, but she didn't know how many more of their "talks" she could handle. She also knew that he was just trying to help, but he was going about it the wrong way. Even he should know that. For now she would just prolong her shower as long as possible. Jane had been thinking about what would have happened if he had walked in on her and she had been half-naked, and he had liked what his mind had come up with.

A month ago, she would have been entirely freaked out about this, but now, she wasn't so sure.

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A/N: Oh, I almost forgot: for those of you who have seen it, how TOTALLY AWESOME was Blood Money? My mind wouldn't let me stop thinking that a little something-something happened that they didn't show. Grrr…

**Please review! (And I won't be offended if you tell me I'm weird and I talk too much.)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Two chapters in two minutes!! Woohoo! *dances* This one...it gets a little...er...steamy... near the end. And it's a bit short. Hope you like it anyway! That goes for you, too, Mom. I love you!!**

**Disclaimer: I went shopping on Saturday, but the mall I went to didn't have the rights to The Mentalist. So I now own a Moulin Rouge movie poster, but not The Mentalist. I will continue searching (fruitlessly)!**

**Warning: OOC, language, and lotsa fluff!**

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When Lisbon had gotten out of the bathroom, Jane was nowhere in sight. Immediately, two reasons popped into her head: he had left because Van Pelt had called with a new lead, or he had left because he'd been afraid that if he stayed much longer, he would do something he would regret. Where the second option had come from, she had no clue, but she wasn't going to dwell on it much. Wrapped in a towel, she went to her unpacked suitcase and began digging through it for clothes.

Someone clearing their throat made her whip around and almost forget to hold onto the towel. Luckily, she didn't, because Jane was standing behind her in the entrance to the room's kitchen. Mortified, she blushed brightly and pulled the towel tighter around her.

"Just give me a minute," she said, "and then we can talk."

Jane approached her, and as he got closer, Lisbon noticed that same hungry look in his eyes, which were roaming over her body. She pulled the towel tighter still. This was_ not_ good.

The next words out of his mouth shocked her. "I don't want to talk." It wasn't just what he said; it was the way he said it. He walked closer to her, and she moved away.

"Patrick Jane doesn't want to talk about how his boss burst into tears _twice_ today," Lisbon said, trying to distract him. The backs of her legs hit something: the bed. Shit. She was trapped.

"No. We'll talk later. Right now…" He put a hand on her waist and pulled her against him. "Right now, I have a question."

"What?" Her voice was a squeak, her hands clutching the towel as if it were her lifeline, which, in this case, it was.

"Do you want me to get out, right now, and pretend that _this_ didn't happen?" His calm gaze held her petrified one. "Tell the truth. I won't be hurt."

Lisbon thought about it. She knew he would be hurt if she said "yes," but did she really want him to go? And if she said "no," was she—were _they_—willing to face the consequences?

Her mind flashed back to ten years ago. She was in a hotel room, much like the one she was in now, in this exact situation… with Daren. And when he asked her if she wanted him to leave, she instantly said, "Yes." Now look what had happened to him. He was dead. _He was dead._ She would never be able to apologize to him for what she did to him.

She wasn't about to let it happen again. She didn't want Jane to leave, not now, not ever. And she needed comfort: he was willing to provide it, if only for the moment.

Her mind finally made up, she pulled away from him. The hurt in Jane's eyes disappeared when Lisbon let go of the towel, allowing it to fall to the floor. Their lips met, their bodies melding themselves to each other. Lisbon knew she hadn't made the wrong choice. This was what she wanted, what she had secretly wished for since they had kissed in the car. And she was relieved when Jane didn't break the kiss to say, "Your wish is my command." But it would come later.

Much later.

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**A/N: Please review, my loyal followers! :)**


	5. Chapter 5

Lisbon awoke to the annoying, insistent _beep!_ of her cell phone. Groaning, she rolled over and managed to wriggle out of Jane's arms. She immediately missed the warmth. She answered her phone, pushing her tangled hair out of her face.

"Hello?"

"Boss, we have a suspect," Van Pelt said. "She was witnessed fleeing the crime scene, and just a few hours ago leaving the hotel."

Lisbon sat bolt upright, disturbing Jane, who mumbled incoherently and rolled over. "Wait. You mean, _this_ hotel? The one we're staying at?"

"Yes." Van Pelt paused. "Are you okay, boss?"

"I'm fine. Do you have the suspect in custody?"

"Yes, but she's not talking. And..."

"Tell me, Van Pelt."

"She said she wanted to talk to you. She claims she knows you."

Lisbon nearly dropped the phone. "I know who she is. I'll be there in five."

"Okay. Oh, and do you know where Jane is? He's not answering his phone."

With a glance at the man sleeping beside her, Lisbon said, "No, but I'll find him."

"Okay. See you." Van Pelt hung up.

Lisbon stared at her phone for a long time, one thought circulating through her head: _Christie, how could you?_ Suddenly filled with rage, she threw her phone at the wall. It made more noise than she'd thought it would, and it startled Jane.

"Wha' 'appened?" he asked groggily, rubbing his eyes.

The anger whooshed out of her at the sight of him. He looked like a toddler who had been woken too early from his nap. She smiled at him warmly. "Nothing. Nothing happened. But..." She took a deep breath. "...we have a suspect. It's—"

"—Christie?"

Lisbon gaped at him. "How...?"

"I didn't want to tell you. I knew you would be upset." Jane put his arms around her, holding her close. "You're crying," he murmured.

"I know. I'm...afraid." Afraid was an understatement. "I-I don't think I can do this."

His hand moved in soothing circles on her back. "You can. I'll be there the whole time."

She smiled again. She would be okay. Jane would be there for her.

After reveling in the feel of his arms around her, she pulled away. "We have to go."

"Your wish is my command." He leaned forward and kissed her, then got off the bed and proceeded to pick up his clothes from the various places they had landed. Lisbon followed suit, putting them in a pile in the bathroom to be taken care of later. She went to her suitcase and found new clothes to wear. Jane had already dressed and was waiting for her. He wrapped his arms around her and kissed her cheek. "Are you sure—"

"Yes, Jane," Lisbon said, smiling. "I'm ready. I can do this." He gave her confidence. If the killer was indeed Christie, then it was Christie. There was nothing Lisbon could do about it except wish that things could have gone differently.

When Lisbon walked into the interrogation room, she felt the tears coming. It _was_ Christie sitting at the table, but she had changed. Her long, beautiful blonde hair was now black, short, and spiky. Heavy makeup lined her eyes and covered her lips. Her nose was pierced, as was her eyebrow. Lisbon could see a tattoo on Christie's neck, half-obscured by the multiple necklaces she was wearing. The only thing that had remained the same was her grey eyes, which were watching Lisbon with a mixture of pride and fear.

A comforting hand on Lisbon's waist gave her a shred of confidence. She looked up at Jane, who smiled at her reassuringly. She smiled back at him and, locking down her emotions (including the urge to kiss Jane), sat across from Christie. Jane moved to stand in the corner of the room. This was one interrogation he would definitely not be disrupting.

"Christina," Lisbon said, and Christie immediately interjected.

"Turn on your recorder," she said, "or write this down, or something. I killed Daren Hawthorne. I did it purposely, with a gun, and dumped his body in the alley. The only thing I didn't do was call you and tell you." She paused, and a single tear ran down her cheek. "I didn't know you guys would get the case. But, apparently," she said, scoffing, "Daren got _job_ that linked him to the Attorney General, and now he wants to know who-done-it." She sat back in her chair, crossing her arms over her chest with a smirk. "Now he does."

That was it. Lisbon's control snapped, and she slammed her fists down on the table. Christie's smirk faltered for just a moment. "Tell me _why_, Christina," Lisbon snarled. "_Why_ did you kill Daren?"

"You really don't know?"

"No, I really don't know. Now tell me."

Christie shrugged. "For you."

Lisbon's fury vanished, and was replaced by confusion. She quickly composed herself. "Elaborate."

"He was angry at you for leaving. He said he was going to find you, and make you come home…to him. He didn't care about me, it was you, you, you. Teresa this, Teresa that. Where's Teresa? Have you heard from Teresa? God!" Christie spat. "It was pathetic. I did it partially because he was irritating."

Lisbon choked back the tears and forced herself to keep going. "You said, 'partially.'"

"I didn't want him to hurt you," Christie whispered. "He was mad, Teresa. _Really_ mad. When he said 'make you come home,' I think he meant in a body bag."

Lisbon winced. She glanced quickly at Jane, who nodded as if to say, _I'm right here. You're fine._ With a deep breath, she pressed, "So that's it. You killed him to protect me?"

"I don't care if you're grateful or not," Christie spat, looking away. "You're going to send me to jail anyway, so why does it matter?"

Lisbon's heart softened. "I am grateful, Christie. Thank you." Christie met her gaze again, surprised. "I don't want to send you to jail, but I have to." Lisbon stood up and walked to Christie. Without any hesitation, she hugged her. "I love you, Christie. You're my best friend. That will never change." She let the tears flow freely now; there was no use in holding them back.

She finally pulled away and, with one last look at her friend, left the room, Jane close behind. After they had walked about fifty feet, Jane kissed her.

"You did fine," he murmured.

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

"Then what do you want to talk about?"

Green eyes met blue. "About how much I love you."

Jane wasn't surprised, but Lisbon sure as hell was. Where had that come from? Not that it wasn't true, it just didn't seem like the time to talk about their relationship. _But_, she thought, _now is as good a time as ever, I guess._

"I love you, too," Jane said. He hesitated. "But..."

Lisbon's heart sank. "But?"

Jane grinned. "Scared ya, huh?" With that, he kissed her. "I love you. No buts."

She smiled back. "Yeah, you scared me. But I forgive you. I have paperwork to fill out. I'll see you later." She walked away from him, back to her hotel room, where her case folder was waiting. To get there, she had to pass the interrogation room where Christie still was. With a quick glance around, she entered the room.

Christie looked up and smirked. "So," she said, "you and Blondie?"

"I swear, you're as bad as he is," Lisbon grumbled. She frowned. "Daren still loved me."

"He was obsessed with you. He cut himself, Teresa." Lisbon looked at her, shocked. "When I asked him about it, he said 'it hurt without you there.'"

"I ruined his life," Lisbon murmured.

"No, you didn't." Christie put her arm around her friend's shoulder. "He was the one who couldn't move on. I do regret it. I didn't want him to hurt you, to make the memories come back."

Lisbon's eyes filled with tears. "If I hadn't left, this wouldn't have happened." She began to cry quietly.

"It's okay." Christie put both arms around Lisbon, who started to sob harder. They stayed that way until the officers came to get Christie. As she was led out the the door, she mouthed, "I love you." Then she was gone.

"I love you, too." Lisbon managed a weak smile. For a few minutes, she just sat there, staring at the wall. With a sigh, she stood up and went to find Jane. She would always bear the burden of Daren's death, but now she had someone who she would never leave. Someone she would love forever.


End file.
